Samson's Lovely Mortal
Page 80
“Amaury, Band Aids are in the top drawer next to the stove.”
Seconds later, his friend handed him the box of bandage strips. Samson lifted her hand to his mouth. Delilah shrieked. He was going to drink her blood. She knew it! It was just like in her nightmare.
He acknowledged her frightened look. “I’ll lick your wound. My saliva will seal it, and it’ll stop bleeding. Trust me.”
Trust him? Was he kidding?
There was no way she would trust him, but he held her hand in an iron grip, and she couldn’t free herself. Helplessly, Delilah watched as his tongue licked gently over the cuts, lapping up the blood. She felt a warm tingling feeling on her fingers and noticed that the blood flow stopped instantly. Samson placed the Band Aids over the sealed cuts. When he closed his mouth, she saw him swallow and inhale sharply.
His eyes suddenly locked with hers. “Oh God, even your blood tastes of lavender.”
She watched him lower his mouth, but couldn’t stop him. His lips brushed hers lightly before he took her mouth and captured her. That was when she knew with absolute certainty that she wasn’t dreaming. She knew his touch, his taste, his scent. He was real, and he was a vampire.
She couldn’t stop her body from reacting to him in the same way she’d reacted to him the night before and allowed his tongue to enter and caress her.
But this wasn’t like the night before—he wasn’t the same. He was a vampire, not the man she thought he was. She had to get away from him.
Samson was too engrossed in kissing her that the kick to his groin hit him like a train. He instantly let go of her and doubled over. Hell, nobody had ever kicked him in the groin. Right where it hurt most. Nausea overwhelmed him. As a vampire he could take pain, but even for him this was right up there with getting fingernails pulled out of their sockets.
When he looked up he caught a glimpse of Delilah as she ran out of the kitchen. Unable to run after her just yet as he still fought nausea, he gave his friend a command. “Bring her back.”
By the time Amaury came back with her, Samson had recovered from the pain and was able to stand upright again. Amaury held her, too tight for Samson’s liking. A pang of jealousy hit him. This was not good.
“Sweetness, you have to stop hitting me. I’m sure we can find another way for you to show your affection.” He had to hand it to her. She had a lot of spunk, and taming her would be fun, if exhausting, and at times probably painful.
“I’m not your sweetness!”
Ah, that was more like it. He didn’t like the fearful look she’d displayed earlier. He much preferred her being a fighter. Something he could work with.
“Can Amaury let go of you now, or are you going to bolt again?”
Delilah shook off Amaury’s arm as Samson nodded to him. She immediately crossed her arms in front of her chest. Definitely ready for battle. Not that she’d win. Ever. But he’d let her try.
“Can we talk now?”
Delilah didn’t answer and instead, pressed her lips together even tighter. He knew exactly how he could get those lips to open up, but it was probably better to not try it while she was still pissed at him. He didn’t fancy another kick in the balls.
“Shall I leave you guys alone?”
He nodded to his friend. “Thanks. Make yourself comfortable in the living room. This will take a while.”
Once they were alone, he looked at her. Her expression hadn’t changed. He could see the tension in her body and face, the fierce determination not to let anything get to her. She wasn’t ready to listen to him, he knew that. But he had to try anyway.
“Delilah, I’m still the same man.”
She shook her head without saying a word. Ah, the Silent Treatment. A woman’s prerogative.
“What we have together—”
“We have nothing together,” she interrupted him. “You lied to me.” At least she was talking now. It was a start.
“I wanted to tell you. But this isn’t exactly the easiest thing to explain. What should I have said? ‘Hey honey, let me take you to dinner, and oh, by the way, I’m a vampire, so just order anything you want while I drink a glass of blood.’ ”
“You never had the intention of telling me. All you wanted was a little sex toy.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. I told you last night—”
She interrupted him. “Lies. That’s what you told me. I even fell for your cute story about your erection problem. Is that what you tell all the others?”
Delilah uncrossed her arms and fisted her hands at her waist.
Seconds later, his friend handed him the box of bandage strips. Samson lifted her hand to his mouth. Delilah shrieked. He was going to drink her blood. She knew it! It was just like in her nightmare.
He acknowledged her frightened look. “I’ll lick your wound. My saliva will seal it, and it’ll stop bleeding. Trust me.”
Trust him? Was he kidding?
There was no way she would trust him, but he held her hand in an iron grip, and she couldn’t free herself. Helplessly, Delilah watched as his tongue licked gently over the cuts, lapping up the blood. She felt a warm tingling feeling on her fingers and noticed that the blood flow stopped instantly. Samson placed the Band Aids over the sealed cuts. When he closed his mouth, she saw him swallow and inhale sharply.
His eyes suddenly locked with hers. “Oh God, even your blood tastes of lavender.”
She watched him lower his mouth, but couldn’t stop him. His lips brushed hers lightly before he took her mouth and captured her. That was when she knew with absolute certainty that she wasn’t dreaming. She knew his touch, his taste, his scent. He was real, and he was a vampire.
She couldn’t stop her body from reacting to him in the same way she’d reacted to him the night before and allowed his tongue to enter and caress her.
But this wasn’t like the night before—he wasn’t the same. He was a vampire, not the man she thought he was. She had to get away from him.
Samson was too engrossed in kissing her that the kick to his groin hit him like a train. He instantly let go of her and doubled over. Hell, nobody had ever kicked him in the groin. Right where it hurt most. Nausea overwhelmed him. As a vampire he could take pain, but even for him this was right up there with getting fingernails pulled out of their sockets.
When he looked up he caught a glimpse of Delilah as she ran out of the kitchen. Unable to run after her just yet as he still fought nausea, he gave his friend a command. “Bring her back.”
By the time Amaury came back with her, Samson had recovered from the pain and was able to stand upright again. Amaury held her, too tight for Samson’s liking. A pang of jealousy hit him. This was not good.
“Sweetness, you have to stop hitting me. I’m sure we can find another way for you to show your affection.” He had to hand it to her. She had a lot of spunk, and taming her would be fun, if exhausting, and at times probably painful.
“I’m not your sweetness!”
Ah, that was more like it. He didn’t like the fearful look she’d displayed earlier. He much preferred her being a fighter. Something he could work with.
“Can Amaury let go of you now, or are you going to bolt again?”
Delilah shook off Amaury’s arm as Samson nodded to him. She immediately crossed her arms in front of her chest. Definitely ready for battle. Not that she’d win. Ever. But he’d let her try.
“Can we talk now?”
Delilah didn’t answer and instead, pressed her lips together even tighter. He knew exactly how he could get those lips to open up, but it was probably better to not try it while she was still pissed at him. He didn’t fancy another kick in the balls.
“Shall I leave you guys alone?”
He nodded to his friend. “Thanks. Make yourself comfortable in the living room. This will take a while.”
Once they were alone, he looked at her. Her expression hadn’t changed. He could see the tension in her body and face, the fierce determination not to let anything get to her. She wasn’t ready to listen to him, he knew that. But he had to try anyway.
“Delilah, I’m still the same man.”
She shook her head without saying a word. Ah, the Silent Treatment. A woman’s prerogative.
“What we have together—”
“We have nothing together,” she interrupted him. “You lied to me.” At least she was talking now. It was a start.
“I wanted to tell you. But this isn’t exactly the easiest thing to explain. What should I have said? ‘Hey honey, let me take you to dinner, and oh, by the way, I’m a vampire, so just order anything you want while I drink a glass of blood.’ ”
“You never had the intention of telling me. All you wanted was a little sex toy.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. I told you last night—”
She interrupted him. “Lies. That’s what you told me. I even fell for your cute story about your erection problem. Is that what you tell all the others?”
Delilah uncrossed her arms and fisted her hands at her waist.
